


The Perfect Lure

by Four9s



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Crack-ish, Death as the unwilling accomplice to Harry's plans, Eventual Tomarry, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle Attend Hogwarts Together, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Oblivious Tom Riddle, Pining Harry Potter, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24109720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Four9s/pseuds/Four9s
Summary: Sixth-year Harry Potter slash Peverell, Master of Death, has an immense crush on Hogwarts' Head Boy and resident heartthrob, seventh-year Tom Marvolo Riddle. Harry plans to do everything in his power to hopefully have his feelings reciprocated and have his own happily ever forever with Tom before Tom graduates, but the problem is .. Harry fails at getting noticed. And Death unwilling gets dragged into Harry's Tom-wooing plans which is by luring Tom with immortality.
Relationships: Death & Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 10
Kudos: 160





	The Perfect Lure

**Author's Note:**

> Okay Okay, I know I should've been updating my other story BUT I just can't get this out of my head, and I am dying for humor lately. And this idea just pops up. I'm not sure if I'm going to update that story yet because even in quarantine university never sleeps they haunt you online. 
> 
> This is pretty much self-indulgent and very different from canon I warn you. But please enjoy and don't bash me...  
> This work was inspired by a manga entitled 'Distopia' and of course Tomarry troupes. 
> 
> Harry Potter Universe belongs to Rowling :)

Harry is perfectly aware that there’s a rule written somewhere in the deepest part of his mind that says _‘thou shall not and thou never shall have a crush, an attraction, or anything that resembles that thy Harry Potter –_ I mean Harris ‘Harry’ Jensen Peverell _\- should find and think Tom Riddle as anything remotely synonymous to thy words; ‘hot’, ‘gorgeous’, ‘charming’, ‘handsome’, ‘sexy’ ‘--tall’, ‘desirable’,-- ’_

“I want a better Master.” Death pipes in and then if he could he’d groan in agony.

‘Shut up Death!—mhh no I’ll call you Tod instead— ’but Harry is rebellious by nature and it’s no surprise that his heart – bless his poor heart—has broken that rule for like a thousand times?

“10,589,368,534 times and counting.”

Harry pouts. Death is a cheat for reading Harry’s mind which was supposed to be **_off limits_ **.

“It comes with the package of being Master of Death, immunity to all kinds of mind-reading magic, immortality, control over all the powers that govern over Death and what not. But it comes with perks for me too like shared mind reading.” Death pauses and gazes at Harry’s small(er) frame. “Never mind, sharing your thoughts is hell for me when I have unbidden thoughts of Tom Riddle every second.”

“Tod, I hate you.” Death has no face but if Harry would imagine it he’d look _smug_ and Harry will gleefully punch it 10,589,368,534 times and counting.

“11,365,742,693 times and counting”

“Now that’s not accurate! I know those numbers are made up!” Harry points at the hooded tall dark creature childishly. Death ignores him.

But seriously Harry has been pining for Tom for the last six years of his life in this lifetime. It took him four of those years in complete and persistent denial, six months in absolute horror that he likes the murderer of his other life’s parents, and the rest manning up and doing something about it, like get noticed, have his unrequited love requited, and maybe have his happily ever after forever.

“You are the prime example of having the ‘Notice-me-Senpai’ Syndrome” Death drawls.

Harry flushes in embarrassment. “I’m sure that _doesn’t_ exist.”

Death (Tod) and Harry sat on the bench beside the train leading to the dead’s next lives. Yup, Harry is within the realm where the exact train station that looks like King’s Cross exists, the one where he ended up when Voldemort killed him and met the other life’s Albus Dumbledore.

This place which Harry has deemed to call his MOD office, (what else could it be?) is where he supervises the dead and makes sure that no stray souls stay too long. The very stubborn ones and the ones that got away i.e the ghosts, well, they run far faaaaar away from Harry the moment they see him (Peeves) or try to emotionally blackmail him with their unfulfilled desires (Myrtle), regrets (Helena Ravenclaw), old crooks that insist they’re still alive (Professor Binns) etc. and Harry – the poor MOD sod—indulges them.

Tod would oftentimes reprimand him and demand him to stricter, “You’re the **_boss_ ** , you are above such sentiments” and Harry would sobbingly reply, “Death I just – _sob sob_ —just understand them okay? I – _sob sob_ \- I still want to meet my other life’s dead parents and friends but – _sob sob_ —they moved on and they won’t – _sob sob_ —remember me anymore.” Tod then would roll his non-existent eyes because yeah Professor Binns has had very very dramatic experiences in his life.

But other than those stubborn souls and watching over people, creatures, just any living thing that dies eventually, his job as the Master of Death is surprisingly easy and quite frankly underwhelming. It could get boring sometimes, not all like a typical villain’s job in movies he’s seen.

So to make his life more interesting his MOD office is also where he plans his Tom-wooing plans much to Tod’s chagrin. “You’ve made my place into your own personal corner.” Tod would complain, “My own sanctuary…just ….gone.”

Harry would then ignore him. He’s MOD, it’s his now and Tod has no right to complain.

Moving on, all his plans have not worked so far and Harry definitely knows why.

It’s because Harry is so damn **_average._ **

Tod snorts with his non-existent nose.

Aside from the whole Master-of-Death thingy, he’s got average grades except Defense and Dark Arts, average looks, average wealth because apparently the Peverells weren’t as wealthy as it was in his other life, average influence, average everything. And with half the population of Hogwarts as Harry’s rivals, it’s super difficult to even get a scrap of attention from Hogwart’s Head Boy.

Tom’s already in his seventh year and in a month Tom would be leaving Hogwarts for good without even realizing that Harry Peverell existed. Harry doesn’t stand out, which he would be infinitely happy with in his other life but now being ‘Just Harry’ isn’t giving him the attention that garnered Tom’s attention being ‘The-Boy-Who-Lived’ which just sucks.

“Tod help me, it’s your job to help with your Master’s love life.”

“No, I don’t want to.”

“But Tooddd...”

“No”

Harry gives him his best adorable-puppy-eyes.

“That won’t work on me twice!”

Harry adds a fake tear drop, “Please?”

Tod pauses then exhales..

“Fine!”

“Yipeee! Sooo any good ideas?”

Tod spreads his legs apart and then leans his hands on them in what would look like an ‘I’m thinking’ position. Now that you think about it is soo funny that Harry tried to smother a laugh. Tod, the bastard, kicks at his poor leg.

“What’s so good about him anyway? He’s afraid of me and in extension -you—even if he doesn’t know it. Tried to get away from me, calling himself Flight-From-Death pshhhh .. and now — Tod eyes him up and down— the Master of Death is apparently in love with him. How ironic.”

“How many times are—“

“I know I know, he’s handsome and whatnot but just _whyyyy_? All those reasons seem just shallow.”

Harry raises his eyebrows in surprise and then smiles wistfully.

“Tom is Tom. He’s a bastard, I know that. He’s manipulative, a complete git, and has a severe lack of conscience. He breaks my heart over and over again without even knowing it. There will always be a part of me that wants to kill him for all the things he did wrong and bad and evil, for me and for all the people who suffered in his hands.” Harry clutched at his robes.

“But, Tom **_completes_ ** me, I feel whole whenever he’s near and there’s this pull that tugs me every time I’m around him. And I know that Tom somewhere deep inside him must feel the same, we’re both the loneliest person in the world.” Harry laughs. “Tom can love. He’s very bad at it but he can. I see how he gives the utmost care to Nagini and Esme and how even if Merope is mentally-ill he visits her and talks to her, how he never forgets to write to his muggle grandparents how he’s been even at Hogwarts. I believe that Albus Dumbledore never did see Tom for who he really was because, Tom was never given the opportunity from my other life because of all that happened to him.”

Harry then smiles at Tod blindingly, “And mainly because Tom’s my soulmate”

Tod wants to vomit. His master is practically a creepy stalker. ‘ _What would they think if they would ever learn that the great fearsome Master of Death looks like a besotted lovesick puppy’_

“I heard that thought!”

Tod sighs.

“Okay okay, I guess that’s true. I mean you were stuck with a piece of him your whole other life and I remember you telling me that your life after Voldemort became just dull, even if you dearly loved your wife and children, you were never whole again.”

Tod nods and metaphorically grimaces, clearly remembering his bad experience. “And then you met me in the train station after that life ended, the worst first meeting and also the worst experience for me, you told me to never want to be MOD and just wanted to move on and so I happily never bothered you because who wants to have a master anyway? So I thought ‘Works for me!’ Tod then growls.

“But then I lose my powers because the stupid rules of order of magic and law and halu-woohahoo non-sense if I don’t follow what is law and ahoo-wha-ahhha I lose my dominion and so when you turned twelve in your current life, you received all the memories from your past life and will now live forevermore. Hah! And you turn my death life miserable. You control my powers saying you don’t want them, You ingrate!”

Harry covered his ears because when Tod shrieks, he _shrieks_ _._

“Okay to be fair, meeting a real existent Death scared the shit out of me, I never thought you were an entity. I mean the Deathly Hallows exist but I thought at that time Death figure couldn’t really be real?-- ”

“ — You charged at me with the wand I made! I might lose my existence!--”

“- And then being Master of Death is just so far-fetched and I was cheated with the job description. You made it sound really great when I was twelve, and I am ashamed I believed you and now I can never turn back.”

Tod then laughs gleefully. “Pffft you were twelve, of course children are easily swayed. Hmm aha! You were also twelve when you were deny-it-or-not charmed by Diary Tom Riddle” Tod then copies Tom’s voice and said “of course I can also be very _persuasive_ ”

Harry flushes again and slaps Tod but is disappointed when his hand only passes through. “I can’t even hit you, I’m cheated.”

If Tod could he’d childishly stick his tongue out.

“Okay, I’m sorry not sorry but back to the topic at hand, Tom-wooing plans remember?”

Harry is running out of time and he’s running out of plans. Harry’s also beginning to lose hope and the idea of giving up on these wretched feelings is becoming more and more tempting by the minute. Maybe being one of the besotted crowd isn’t such a bad thing and looking longingly from afar is his future.

Tod released a I-can’t-believe-I’m-indulging-you sigh.

“You want him to notice you?”

Harry nods.

“Make sure he never forgets you?”

Harry nods again.

“For Tom to have the opportunity to potentially love and cherish you. Have dates, alone time together with you and all that couples do disgustingly together?”

“Yes!” Harry almost shouts impatiently.

“Then use what you can, you idiot!”

“What?”

“You’re the Master of Death! You can do things no one else could do!”

“Like what? Make ghosts sing my love songs to Tom for me?”

“What?! No! Of course not! You can give him what he wants above all else, something no other being can ever hope to give him. Something that he’s been desiring and being denied his whole life.”

Harry’s eyes widened in realization.

“Yes, my idiot master, you give him immortality.”

\--

“ _Uh-hum.”_

Madam Pince coughed rather loudly making Harry jump out in his seat in the library in surprise, he stared dazed and not quite awake yet. It was always a pain in the arse when he is forcefully returned to the realm of the living especially when being jerked awake.

Madam Pince glared at him.

“Mr. Peverell, I believe this is a library and not the Gryffindor Dormitory. I implore you that if you would like to dream and drool, do not do it over my poor precious books.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Harry then crutches at his head. “I’m just tired.”

“Then I suggest you rest somewhere else and I would like to remind you that Library Hours are ending in twenty minutes.” Madam Pince then eyed Harry up and down and raised an eyebrow at his state before turning her pointy nose the other way and leaving.

Confused why she raised her eyebrow Harry stared down and cursed as he saw his ruined essay. The written ink spread all over the parchment with his drool making it an unsalvageable mess. Harry wiped his drool and groaned. It was times like this when he wished he’d gone with Hermione when she had offered to have him as a date at Slughorn’s Party. At least after every party she’d help him with his essay.

He’s been a student already but has to do it all over again and because he is no genius he actually forgot most of the things that were taught in school he didn’t deem necessary for being an Auror. And anyway he just remembered these things when he was twelve okay.

“It’s a Divination essay for Merlin’s sake! It’s not like just predicting my death would give me a passable grade like I had with Professor Sybil Trelawney, Professor Cassandra Trelawney is no hack.” Harry complained.

If only Harry could use Tod to do his essay for him, but Tod is not allowed to interact with the living and is not exactly corporeal so the task is left to Harry.

Which reminded him.

“Immortality huh” Harry closed his eyes.

Well, it’ll be nice to share his eternal life with Tom, but if Harry gives him immortality would he even stay with Harry? Sure he’d never be able to forget him and they’d have to spend time together but what guarantee would Harry have that Tom might reciprocate his feelings?

“Well, being scared of the risks, you’re shaming your house Potter.” Harry whispered and smirked.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

* * *

It was funny how most humans can never be satisfied with what they have. Tom guesses that it has become human nature to just want more.

Contentment is a word most deemed inexistent in their lives and Tom Riddle is unabashedly one of those people. He has it all; looks, charms, intelligence, power, talent, and wealth and yet he can never be satisfied with all of that. There has always been an empty part of him, something unexplainable, something missing as if he wasn’t _whole_. 

Tom isn’t content. He believed that there is more for him, he was meant to be someone greater and maybe if he’d finally achieved his goal he’d lose this particular feeling.

Boredom really is an unpleasant thing. It’s making him think of things he’d normally choose not to think about. Tom took another sip of elven wine Slughorn had somehow gotten a hold of, letting the shimmery liquid cool down his throat and resisted the urge to wince at the taste. Too sweet.

Tonight was another one of Slughorn’s Parties the Potions Professor never got tired of. As always it was flamboyant and consisted only of the members of influential families or wizards and witches who had some kind of potential to be influential in the future. He put down the wineglass on one of the tables and headed towards the dance area where someone was waiting for him but before he could enter the dance area he was interrupted.

“Mr. Riddle, this person is Mr. Clement Sayre, grandnephew of Isolt Sayre, founder of Ilvermorny in America. I believe you’re family, Isolt Sayre is Gormlaith Gaunt’s niece.”

Slughorn introduced the young man who is apparently Tom’s distant cousin, cousin-in-law perhaps because last time he checked Slytherin’s blood family tree there was no one named ‘Clement Sayre’. Tom turned to look at him, he was handsome but it was not of the pureblood flair of a kind, he has brown hair and steel-gray eyes that shoot cold stares particularly at Tom. Sayre didn’t look happy to be introduced and Tom shared the same sentiments.

Tom smiled pleasantly, pretending he did not notice Clement’s displeasure and never failing to put on the mask that always managed to deceive everyone (well except Dumbledore).

“It’s always a pleasure to meet another member of my family. I’m Tom Riddle. My mother hailed from the Gaunts.” 

“I can’t say likewise.” Clement sneered and then turned to Slughorn.

“Sir Slughorn I have to go, this— I don’t want to be introduced to any member of that family.” 

“Is there a problem?” Tom asked, but from the looks that Sayre was giving him, it must be the Gaunt Family’s ruined reputation again.

“My grandaunt’s family was murdered by Gormlaith Gaunt and having any relation to the Gaunts is never a good thing.” Clement spat. “Your mother’s family is notorious for being pureblood-supreme, too much inbreeding has done you lot damage.”

Slughorn frowned and immediately tried to appease Clement.

“Now, now, don’t be harsh Mr. Sayre, you’ve only just met. Young Tom here is not a pureblood his father is a muggle. Merope Gaunt married a non-wizarding family like yours.”

While Tom hated Slughorn for divulging information about his family and blood status the look of incredulity on Clement’s face was enough to appease his anger.

“I assure you, Mr. Sayre. I also am estranged from my mother’s family. She was disowned for marrying a muggle and they thought her a squib, her powers never manifested until she met my father.”

“I— I apologize, it was out of turn. My family doesn't like being reminded we were at some point connected with the Gaunts. I’ve offended you.”

“No offense taken.” Tom lied. “It was nice to meet you, however, I would like to be excused. My date has been waiting for me and I believe I owe them a dance.”

Tom nodded at them in farewell, ignoring Slughorn’s spluttering and Clement’s look of shame.

Looking for any sign of black curly hair, Tom inspected the area where witches and wizards danced in a slow waltz. When he spotted his ‘supposed’ date, she was already at the dance floor dancing with one Rabastan Lestrange. Bellatrix Black smiled devilishly at Rabastan and when she saw Tom looking at her she made a motion of linking her arms around Rabastan’s neck and pulling him down in a kiss. The other dancers looked at them scandalized.

Tom inwardly rolled his eyes, Bella has always been obsessed with Tom, and he could never understand how she got in her head that somehow Tom was in love with her. The only reason he took her as a date to Slughorn’s Party was because out of every witch he was acquainted with, the Black family was the most influential, and it would create a good image of him that he had managed to acquire the attention of the Blacks. 

Not wanting to be humiliated further by Bella’s tantrum, Tom randomly approached the nearest stranger, who unlike anyone in the room was doing his best to be invisible. When the said stranger saw Tom headed in his direction he panicked and immediately looked behind him and saw a window. Tom suppressed a snicker.

As he approached the stranger, Tom can’t help but take note of his appearance. Like Bella, the stranger has black hair that curls in waves. He is not as tall as any of the purebloods but he’s not small either, a half-blood maybe judging by the poor boy’s lack of pureblood ethics and a very muggle smartphone device pocketed in his robes. The boy is not unattractive, his looks are handsome but Tom has seen better and there was nothing really note-worthy about him except maybe for his eyes. They are a rare shade of green, and if it wasn’t Tom’s imagination they gleamed like the infamous Killing Curse.

“Good evening,” Tom greeted the green-eyed stranger. “I can’t help but notice that out of all the people around here we’re the only ones having no one to accompany us this evening.”

The stranger flinched uncomfortably.

“Er— Yes. I suppose. Umm— don’t mind me, I’m sure I’m perfectly happy to be alone. I’m really not quite sure why I thought that going to Slughorn’s Party is any fun and I’m kind of regretting it right now. Please ignore me.” The stranger stopped and hid his face with his hands. He looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. 

Tom almost sneered. This fool is the prime example of a blubbering menace Tom didn’t want to deal with. But since this stranger was invited by Slughorn (Tom hopes so) then he was somewhat important and notable enough not to ruin Tom’s image. Tom faked a laugh and a smile.

“Don’t be nervous.” Tom held out his hand in offering. “ I’m Tom Riddle and since I am looking forward to having your company right now, would you give me the honor of a dance?”

The stranger blushed and mumbled.

“Umm— er— you’re asking me? Um— sure I guess—” 

The stranger accepted Tom’s hand and immediately Tom pulled the young boy to the dance floor. Tom took the lead, holding the man by the waist. Some onlookers were staring at them in wonder but they were all ignored in favor of the jealous and gobsmacked face of Bella who was gritting her teeth across the dance floor. Rabastan looked embarrassed. Poor sod.

“ —rell, um— Are you listening?”

Tom smiled, not really listening to what the stranger was mumbling about. 

“Ah yes, I was distracted.” Tom twirled his partner around. Surprisingly, the boy knows how to follow a lead and had not once tripped or stepped at Tom’s shoes which he’d expected from a wizard raised by a standard half-blood family.

“ You can dance well” Tom complimented the stranger. 

“I hope so, the first time I ever danced I stepped on my partner’s feet a lot. It was not nice and she told me she would never ever want to dance with me again.”

“Oh? So you’ve practiced since then?”

“Kind of? I mean, I was invited to more balls than I’d ever like to attend and it was necessary that I learn to dance. To socialize and stuff.”

“Then why are you alone tonight? Has your date left you?”

“I just tagged along with Hermione, she was the one Slughorn invited. She told me to loosen up and that this might be the break I needed.”

Tom’s mood soured. So this person was no one influential at all and was just a tag-a-long of Granger’s. 

“A pity.” _A pity for Tom indeed._ “You look dashing tonight, it is a wonder why Granger has left you alone. It’s my luck then that I managed to snatch you.”

“Hermione meant well but this party is for her. She wants to be the minister someday and for that she needs connections and this is an opportunity she can’t pass.” the stranger smiled. “Thanks, for the compliment. You look very handsome tonight, with, you know the umm— very expensive clothes.”

They danced for about thirty minutes and Tom almost sighed in relief when the dance was finally over, it was short-lived however and the urge to groan in despair replaced it when Bellatrix angrily snatched his hand from the stranger’s hold. She openly sneered at the stranger’s direction.

“Hands off, mudblood— “ 

— half-blood actually.”

Bella glared menacingly yet the stranger looked to be unperturbed which was a total shift of personality from a while ago.

“As I was saying, _mudblood_ , Tom’s mine. Get your dirty little fingers off of him.”

“He’s all yours.” The stranger made a gesture of releasing Tom and offering him to Bella. “Oh, and Bella, do try to wipe the lipstick off of Rabastan’s face. We don’t want to have _undesirable_ rumors flying around, because obviously you are a perfectly _honorable,_ _discreet_ , and _proper_ pureblood who would do well not to tarnish her family’s name.”

If looks could kill this stranger would be dead ten times over. Tom applauded the fool inwardly, he’s brave enough to earn the wrath of Bella, so different from the blubbering person he was a while ago.

“Shut up.” Bella turned her head away from the stranger and looked at Tom.

“It must have been torturous to dance with someone so plebeian when you wanted to dance with me all along. Let’s dance Tom before this night ends.”

Tom just nodded.

“Um— Riddle” the stranger addressed him. “Thanks for the dance, I knew it must have been uncomfortable for you to dance with me. I’ll be on my way then.” 

The stranger then left without another word, disappearing among the crowd of people in the room.

Tom faced Bella and as he had promised her he danced with her. All thoughts of the stranger disappeared as he continued to spend the night well in Slughorn’s Party making connections, discussing prospects, and eyeing potential recruits to his own circle of individuals.

As Tom retired for the night, he realized he didn’t get to know the stranger’s name. 

Tom didn’t care, he didn’t seem interesting at all.

* * *

“You’re a lost cause.” Tod commented as he sat leisurely across the couch, the former bench which Harry had transfigured earlier. In his hands is a quill and a paper trying to write a poem which his idiot master was making him write. Tod would have cried if he had eyes to cry because this was just injustice, slavery! Death reduced to a teenager’s slave.

While his idiot master was just pacing and if Tod wasn’t imagining it he was glowing? 

Ohh.. he frowned… almost cried and then.. And umm smiled giddly and then laughed in a very very deranged way.

Did love and immortality make his master insane?

Tod scratched another line on the paper, he has never composed a poem before dammit!

Harry just can’t sit still. He danced with Tom with Tom! And.. and..It was a disaster. But it was progress! More so than any of his attempts before but who knew that begging Hermione to take him as a date and let him join and suffer Slughorn’s Party for just one night gave him a chance to dance with his crush. 

Harry wasn’t blind, he knew that Tom only danced with him because he was convenient and it hurt to also know that Tom wasn’t listening to him at all and was very possibly bored. Tom’s attention was on Bellatrix Black and Harry almost removed his hair in frustration because that woman in any universe is a bitch.

Well if his plan.. (Tod’s plan too) would come to fruition then maybe! Tom would never ever be able to forget him.

“Toddy! How’s the poem?” Harry then snatched the paper and Death glared at him which Harry ignored.

“Hmmm.. it’s uh.. Acceptable?”

Tod smirks inwardly because he’d thank whoever it is out there that his master is rubbish at what is considered to be a good poem.

“Of course it’s composed by Death! My master will surely be revered!”

“Great! Then let’s call Salazar Slytherin and ask what he thinks!”

Harry then rushes to the train to find the soul of Salazar Slytherin and maybe ask him to fake a document and put it in the Chamber of Secrets. Additionally, ask for permission to court Tom.

* * *

Tom Marvolo Riddle is privileged and it’s a fact.

Even if he came from a disgraced pureblood family, the stain of it was removed the moment his mother made the best and only good decision she ever made in her life and that was to run away and marry Tom Riddle Senior, from the wealthy noble muggle family that lived on the most lavish Manor in all of Little Hangleton. Nevermind all the love potions because it worked well, in the end, didn’t it? 

After Tom was conceived Merope Riddle nee Gaunt stopped feeding her husband love potions in hopes that Tom Riddle Senior genuinely grew to love her. Said husband was outraged and almost threw her out into the streets with her freakish unborn child. But because Tom Riddle Senior didn’t want to ruin his family’s reputation and with the convincing of Tom Riddle Senior’s parents, she was spared but she became a wife in name only and Tom Riddle Senior had many mistresses but thankfully no bastards.

And of course, Tom Marvolo Riddle, the sole heir to the Riddle Wealth, grew up lavishly. His every need and want was given. His magic was an unwilling compromise but they’re still holding on. His mother told him all there is to know about her family and that they herald from Slytherin’s line and being a wizard and so on. 

“Excellent Tom! A Perfectly made Draught of the Living Death Potion, I must say!” 

Every praise such as this was common in his life.

Professor Slughorn patted his back, it seems like the Professor decided to pretend that last night’s debacle with Sayre never happened. Tom accepted the fool’s praise with his ever perfect ‘humble’ smile. It was too easy manipulating these people.

“Isn’t he so perfect? Tom could have been studying for his NEWTs and yet he made time to demonstrate how to create the Draught of the Living Death for us sixth years.”

“Exceedingly handsome, outstanding grades, and humble.”

“Even if he’s a Slytherin, I saw him help students from the other three houses with their homework.”

“Tom’s very powerful, I’ll bet he’ll get far in life.”

Whispers of admiration began to fill the room and Tom can’t help but bask in all the attention. 

Tom is privileged and it is a fact.

Tom has it all; looks, charms, intelligence, power, talent, and wealth and yet he can never be content. He is more achieved than anyone his age, more powerful than most but there has always been an empty part of him, something unexplainable, something missing as if he wasn’t _whole_. Tom believed it was because there is still something he could achieve that no one has before.

He’s empty because he’s mortal, because someday all of his glory will disappear.

Death is his worst enemy. 

* * *

“Spell Craft? You want to be a spell maker?”

Professor Slughorn raised an eyebrow as he reread the Career Form that every seventh-year student had to pass to their Head of House before graduation. Slughorn leaned on his chair and placed the permission slip on top of his desk.

They were currently at Slughorn’s private office, and for all how annoying Slughorn is he’s got good taste when it comes to furniture. Tom made himself comfortable sitting on the green couch.

“Yes Professor, I’ve thought about it and I believe there is no other profession more suitable for me.”

“Think more carefully Tom with your achievements you could have been a great Potions Master. And if you don’t want to be one I believe that you have been offered several enviable positions in the Ministry already, and dare I say, you could pave your way to being the Minister of Magic.” Slughorn removed his glasses. “Spell Craft, for all it sounds good, is a dreadfully underachieved and unrewarding career. Most wizards and witches that try their hand at this profession end up spending their entire lives trying to make a spell that hasn’t been invented already.”

_But I’m not most wizards now aren’t I?_

“I believe it would be worth it, sir. I am confident in my abilities.”

“I do believe in you Tom, but Spell Craft —”

“ — is what I am passionate about, sir.” Tom cut in. 

Slughorn looked disappointed. 

Tom knew how irritably stubborn Slughorn can be. Tom was after all the best potions student he has ever had and of course, Slughorn wouldn’t let the opportunity pass for him to get connections from him in the future. Still, there is a reason Tom was going to Spell Craft and if he has to play the pitiful one then so be it.

“You’ve heard of my mother Professor, have you?”

“Ahh yes, Merope Riddle, how is she?”

“You know, how even though she has magic, she can never regain control of her legs. Childbirth had rendered her paralyzed forever and she could no longer see very well. She’s nearing her end.” Tom made sure to sound as pitiable as possible as if he had any plans to cure a person who doesn't want to be cured. “I want to create a spell that would make her happy sir before she goes.”

“You want to make a spell that will make her happy? You mean you wish to heal her?”

“Yes Professor and give her the chance to fulfill her deepest desires. I’ve considered going to MediWizardry but it would restrict me, I want to be able to create in an environment of my choosing. I believe it would not only benefit me but others as well when I succeed.”

There was a short silence.

“I— do understand.”

Slughorn looked as if he didn’t understand, but playing the good and understanding professor that he was, decided that it is more important having a good relationship with Tom rather than question his ambitions. 

“I admire your love for your mother Tom. But if you have a change of mind about your career you know my office is always open.”

Professor Slughorn sighed regrettably as he signed Tom’s Career Form.

_Love?_

Tom saw the broken faraway look the shell he called his mother wore all the time. She was weak, shattered, and soulless. All because her so-called love was not reciprocated. There was never any room for love in the Riddle Household and for good reason, Tom never ever wanted to end up like his mother.

_How distasteful._

* * *

Honestly speaking, Tom understands why Slughorn was so adamant of him not to go to Spell Craft. It is as he said, it’s unrewarding, with thousands of innovations made each day it’s hard to think of inventions. His Knights also wanted to protest against it even if they won’t say a word and Tom, enjoying their fear of him never gave them a reason.

It was fairly simple. It is a means of achieving his goal.

While the idea of creating hocruxes was a tempting, _tempting_ thing. Tom would not want to split his soul. Tom loathes the idea of creating attachments. History has taught him much, Herpo the Fowl was a perfect example of what hocruxes would do to you losing your sanity in exchange for power and immortality was just a disaster in the making. Herpo died in the end and Tom didn’t find it worth it.

Now a career in creating spells would not be easy but it is most convenient. It wasn’t a lie that Tom is confident of his abilities to make new spells, he’d already created spells before but that is not the only reason, he’d have a lot of freedom. Because of its not-dying-not-developing status, laws that could restrict him are almost non-existent. Money isn’t going to be a problem because he’d be inheriting the Riddle Wealth a few months from now.

Tom Riddle made sure that no one was following as he made his way to the second-floor girls’ lavatory where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was located. After checking that the bathroom was empty he made his way inside and as usual using Parseltongue, opening it and making his way through the secret corridor.

The ever-familiar smell and sight greeted him and after admiring the tall columns and magnificent statue of his ancestor, Tom called out for his most-trusted friend. 

_~Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.~_

The mouth of Salazar Slytherin’s statue opened and out came a basilisk, it circled Tom before nodding its giant head in recognition.

~ _Salazar’s Heir, it’s been a while, did you bring any food?~_

_~Esme, glad to see you too, I’m sure a few creatures from the Forbidden Forest is enough to fill your stomach.~_

Esme let loose her forked tongue, a clear sign of her amusement.

 _~Why have you come? Do you need me to terrorize your knights once again?_ ~

Tom snickered in good humor.

_~Unfortunately no, I've come to bid you farewell I'll be graduating in a month and I won't be able to come here as often as I'd like~_

Esme hissed in sadness.

_~Won't you reconsider? It'll be no fun without you~_

_~I'll miss you too but we both know I have places to go if I want to be great.~_ Tom petted her head. _~Esme, I also came here to ask you for a favor~_

~ _Anything_ ~

~ _I want you to protect this school, Hogwarts has always been my home. And also keep my followers in check won't you?~_

_~I'll do as you ask~_

Tom smiled at her before heading towards the hidden room behind Slytherin's statue. The chamber is elegant and sophisticated with all the Slytherin colors and books owned personally by Salazar himself. Most of them were in Parselscript and only Salazar's descendants could ever hope to be able to read them.

While Tom admired his ancestor for his greatness, he couldn't help but sometimes find his being a blood purist stupid. Even if the main reason for Esme's existence was to purge all of those unworthy to study magic Tom couldn't find it in himself to do something so tedious. 

Tom finds muggles repugnant but he wasn't so blind as to not notice their importance. Inbreeding, after all, is detrimental to one's features and talents. His mother's family is the prime example as such and if it were not for Tom Riddle Senior, Tom would have been one of the ugliest persons around and a squib to boot. 

Muggle-borns are a menace needed to populate the Wizarding World and if only they were taught to strictly abide by the Statute of Secrecy, they wouldn't be a problem. Tom is not afraid to admit that some muggle-borns are more competent in magic, Hermione Granger is one example. It is also the reason why she was invited by Slughorn in the first place and Tom wouldn’t feel bad if she turned out to be the future Minister for Magic.

Tom Riddle spent hours in Salazar’s chamber reading and memorizing the last pieces of books he would not be able to read again for a long time.

As he was finally putting back the last book, Tom noticed at the back of the last shelf, there was an uneven brick that did not fit in well with the wall. Curious, Tom tapped on it and it released a different sound. Smirking he held the brick and was not surprised but delighted to find a hidden compartment and within it lay a notebook.

Tom wondered why he had never noticed it before. He opened it and there at the bottom part of the last page written in Salazar’s own parselscript handwriting was the key to Tom’s immortality.

_Many have tried to evade Death’s sting,_

_One by the power of Elder Wood,_

_Another by a Stone of Resurrection,_

_By a Cloak of Invisibility,_

_By a Caged soul to the Living Realm,_

_But their victory was not to last_

_For Death’s Realm holds fast._

_Their ways were wrong for they did not know_

_Death has a master whose story is untold_

_He alone harbors the gift opposite of his powers_

_Eternal life, that can only take life._

_For the only way to cheat Death forever,_

_Is to court he who masters It._

_Win the Death Master’s game,_

_And The Death Master’s gifts are yours._

_Speak his name and he will come to you._

_— Hrypa Pleoh —_

Tom spoke the name and then he knew no more.

**Author's Note:**

> 'Tod' - is Death in German, PS I used Google Translate XD
> 
> Leave kudos? And please comment, I love reading them :))))


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